by Anne Baker
When he parked the car, he tucked a couple of rugs under his arm and gave Chloe a windbreak to carry. It was a bright and blustery afternoon, too cool and windy for the crowds, so there was nobody much about. The sea was choppy and the wind was whipping up the sand and blowing it about. ‘It’s stinging my face,’ Chloe exclaimed.
‘Mine too,’ he laughed. ‘And it’s hard walking in such soft sand.’
‘It feels as though I have weights on my feet.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll find a spot out of the wind and in the sun amongst these sandhills. Then we can sit down.’
Adam knew where to go, and spread his rugs on the sand. They lay down. ‘Don’t even need the windbreak here,’ he said, pulling Chloe closer. She gave herself up to the kisses he was raining on her face. His body felt firm and strong against hers and he made her senses race. They stayed until evening was drawing in and it had grown cold.
‘Back to Liverpool now,’ he told her. ‘I’ve booked a table at the Adelphi.’
‘I’m full of sand,’ she protested. ‘I need to go home to change.’
‘No, I’m starving.’ With the car boot sheltering them from the wind, he shook her coat and dusted her down. She combed the sand out of her tangled hair and replaced her Alice band.
‘You look great.’ He smiled at her. ‘I love that red dress. Now, where are your high heels? All you need is a few minutes in the ladies’ at the Adelphi and you’ll be the prettiest girl there.’
He was stripping off his pullover and replacing it with a jacket and tie. He’d taken her to the Adelphi Hotel last week, and Chloe had loved the formality of the dining room: waiters in dress suits, starched white damask tablecloths and napkins, sparkling cutlery and china and fresh flowers. She knew it was reputed to be the best hotel in the city. She’d told the girls at work about it and asked if they liked it.
‘It’s heavy on style,’ they agreed, ‘and the food isn’t bad, but it’s very traditional.’ They told her where she could get more exciting foreign dishes, but she knew formal and traditional were what Adam enjoyed.
After a wash, and a quick flick of her powder puff and lipstick, Chloe felt fine. Adam ordered wine and they lingered over the many courses while he talked of his career as an antique dealer.
‘You’re very young to have a house of your own,’ she told him. ‘Lucky to have achieved it so quickly.’ She wanted to know all about it.
‘It’s in Didsbury, a suburb of Manchester,’ he told her. ‘It was built in Victorian times but it’s in the Georgian style, which I like. You must come and see it.’
‘I’d love to, nothing I’d like more.’
‘Come home with me now. I could bring you back in time to go to work in the morning.’
Chloe laughed. ‘No, Mum would have a fit.’
‘You know you’d love to.’
‘Yes, but I daren’t.’
‘Then come on the train on Saturday morning and spend the day with me. I’ll meet you at the station.’
The prospect excited Chloe. Since he’d told her he had a house, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
‘One day,’ he’d said, ‘I hope you’ll come and live there with me.’
Any thought of a future with Adam thrilled Chloe. She could feel his love; every day he telephoned her at work, and often he telephoned her again when she was back at home. He was always booking theatre and concert tickets for them as well as taking her to restaurants. When he came to pick her up, she frequently found he’d bought a little gift, sometimes chocolates and sometimes a book he thought she would enjoy.
Chloe was head over heels in love with Adam and knew it had been love at first sight for them both. He hadn’t yet mentioned marriage or an engagement, but she felt a more permanent relationship must be on his mind and that they were progressing rapidly towards it.
In order to distract Helen, Rex got up and took both their mugs to the sink and started to wash them. She gazed out of the window. ‘Marigold wouldn’t even come to look at my new summerhouse,’ she said sadly.
‘Now you’ve had time to try it, are you pleased with it?’ He thought perhaps she wasn’t.
‘It needs fixing up inside. I put the old garden chairs in, but it needs more furniture and something to brighten it up. Come and see.’
Rex followed her over. He could see what she meant. The inside smelled of new wood, but it looked bare. Helen’s wooden garden chairs were shabby, and the cushion covers looked faded.
‘At least I don’t have to bring them in every night to keep them dry,’ she said. ‘The summerhouse looks beautiful from the outside, and it’s quite easy to swing it round. But I need to buy new furniture for it, make it smarter. What sort of furniture would look good in here?’
Rex looked round helplessly. ‘I’m not much good at interior design,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t Chloe have any ideas?’
‘All Chloe can think about is her new boyfriend,’ Helen said, and looked quite depressed.
Rex would have liked to go home, but felt he couldn’t leave her if she was feeling low. ‘Do you feel like a bit of gardening this afternoon?’ he asked.
She sighed. ‘I’m in one of those moods when I don’t know what I want.’
‘What about a walk, then?’
She gave him another wan smile. ‘That would be nice.’
Helen had a lovely house and a magnificent garden, but there was no pleasant place to walk nearby. They could only pace the pavements.
He drove her in his van to Formby and they visited the nature reserve and walked for miles. Helen was fascinated with the red squirrels leaping through the trees and the number and variety of birds. When they got back to his van, her cheeks were glowing scarlet and Rex felt wind-tossed and full of fresh air.
It was early evening as he drove back. They’d mulled over next year’s plans for the garden. Helen wanted to get more spring bulbs, so he took her to his stepfather’s garden centre and she bought a sackful of daffodil bulbs.
The cafeteria stayed open until seven, so Rex suggested, ‘D’you fancy a Welsh rarebit and a pot of tea?’
‘Yes please, that sounds lovely.’ She seemed more in control now and had quite a long and cheerful conversation with Rex’s half-brother Simon.
When Rex ran his van on to her drive and carried the sack of daffodils to the back of her garage, she seemed happier than she had all day.
‘It’s been a lovely afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’ve enjoyed it. Thanks, Rex.’
He got back in his van and waited until he saw her door shut and the lights go on in the hall.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN CHLOE GOT HOME from work on Friday evening, she said to her mother, ‘I’m going to Manchester on the train in the morning. Adam wants to show me his house.’
She saw the sudden tension on Helen’s face and knew she disapproved. ‘I thought you liked Adam,’ she said.
‘I do, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to his house.’
‘Why not?’
‘Just the two of you there, you could get carried away and do things you’ll later wished you hadn’t. I’ve explained all this to you.’
‘Mum, we won’t. Don’t worry.’
‘You’re rushing things,’ her mother cautioned. ‘You’re still very young, not seventeen yet. Take your time.’
‘I’m taking all the time I need. That’s not rushing.’
‘Enjoy this part of your life, Chloe. It’s your carefree youth. You need time to get to know Adam; let him take you out and about.’
‘He does, all the time.’
She felt her mother’s twitch of exasperation. ‘Will he drive you home, or do you want me to meet you off the train?’
‘I’m not sure. If it’s to be the train, I’ll ring and let you know.’
‘Just let him give you a good time . . .’
‘He’s giving me a marvellous time,’ Chloe said, but marriage was what she really wanted. Perhaps a white wedding in their local church? Mum would
enjoy arranging all that for her.
‘Just be careful, Chloe.’
‘I will, Mum,’ she said, knowing Mum couldn’t forget what had happened to Aunt Goldie. That had ruled their lives ever since. It wasn’t as though it was relevant in today’s world.
On the train journey, she could think only of Adam. He was waiting for her in the crowd behind the ticket barrier, his hand raised to attract her attention. Her heart quickened to see him, and moments later he was crushing her in a hug of delight. His house was bigger than the one in which she lived with her mother, and it was furnished with antiques. Chloe was impressed.
‘It’s a gorgeous house and you have all this lovely old furniture.’
He laughed, ‘It’s partly my stock in trade. I haven’t got my house furnished exactly as I want it yet.’
She went from room to room, feasting her eyes. He had a better sense of how to make a room look its best than either she or Mum. She told him so.
‘You won’t think much of the garden, though,’ he said. ‘It isn’t a patch on yours.’
‘You don’t work at it as Mum works on ours. You have other things to do.’
He’d set the dining room table in readiness for their lunch, with more formality than Mum used when she was expecting company. He used old Doulton china, Bohemian cut glass and sterling silver cutlery, and the table looked fit for a queen. When they were ready to eat, he brought the cold chicken salad and white wine from the kitchen.
‘This is lovely,’ she told him. He’d even warmed the bread rolls and folded the damask napkins. ‘Is this how you live when you’re by yourself?’
‘I’d like to,’ he laughed. ‘But I haven’t the energy to set things up like this every day. Often, it’s a tray on my knee. Is that what you do at home?’
‘No, Mum likes to sit up to the table. The kitchen sometimes, for breakfast, the dining room for other meals.’
‘I want things to be nice because you’re here and sharing it with me. I always will, Chloe. I do love you.’
Afterwards he took her to his sitting room. He’d brewed coffee and served it in a Georgian silver pot on a matching tray. They drank from beautiful cups of eggshell-thin china. Just about the only pieces of furniture that weren’t antique were a pair of large super-soft sofas.
Chloe sat down in the corner of one and Adam occupied the other end of the same sofa. He never stopped talking, but somehow he moved imperceptibly closer until he could put his arms round her.
To feel him this close, his breath warm against her cheek, his lips on hers, was what she dreamed of at night in her own bed. The strength of his passion surprised her, even stronger than her own.
Half an hour later Adam whispered, ‘Will you come upstairs with me?’
‘No,’ she said; that was what her mother had been afraid might happen. But she couldn’t stop now. His hand moving against her bare skin was making thrills like fireworks explode in her body.
They were lying on a soft rug when he suddenly pulled away from her. She rubbed her cheek against his and tried to pull him back.
‘Chloe, are you sure?’ His voice was thick with desire.
That rang an alarm bell, she rolled away from him and tried to sit up. ‘Yes, but I’m scared we could make a baby. I’d be in terrible trouble, my mother would kill me.’
Adam smiled. ‘It’s the last thing I want, but it won’t happen.’
‘It happened to my Aunt Goldie.’
‘But years ago. This is the 1960s, all that can be avoided now. You must have read about it.’
‘Yes, but I don’t know exactly how . . .’
‘I do, and I’ve got what’s needed.’ He pulled himself up to the sofa to reach into the pocket of the trousers he’d removed, and showed her a condom.
‘That’ll stop it?’
‘Yes, guaranteed.’
Chloe hesitated, ‘I’ve read that it isn’t always reliable, that there’s a pill now which is better.’
‘We can get that later. This is what I have here and now. It’s perfectly safe.’
‘But what if it doesn’t stop . . . ?’
‘It will. I’ll take good care that it won’t happen. You must relax and not worry about that side of it.’
‘You are sure?’
‘Absolutely. But talking about it like this – hell, Chloe, it’s a real turn-off. Come on, we might as well get dressed and go out. Some other time, eh?’
The following week, Chloe was very much looking forward to Saturday, when she could take the train to Manchester again. She knew now what to expect, and felt she would have the time of her life if Adam made love to her. Being with him was far more fun than staying at home with her own family. They were really quite stick-in-the-mud. She felt she was living at last.
They were still in bed when he ran his finger down her cheek to move her hair away. ‘Stay the night with me?’ he murmured.
‘I couldn’t possibly.’ Chloe sat up with a jerk. ‘Mum would be aghast if I even suggested it.’
‘She’s an earlier generation, Chloe. In her day, the only way was to remain celibate, but modern science means we can enjoy the pleasures of life. We don’t have to worry about an unwanted pregnancy.’
‘When you took me home last week, Mum was really on edge. Well, you could see it, couldn’t you?’ Chloe had invited him in to have a cup of coffee. ‘She’s afraid for me, Adam. Afraid I’ll get into what she calls trouble. Once it’s happened in the family, the horror stays with us.’
‘We’ll have to give her time to get used to me,’ he said. ‘She’ll trust me eventually.’
Chloe got Adam to drive her home. It was just after half ten when he drew into her drive. ‘Mum thinks this is late,’ she said.
‘The generation gap again.’ Adam smiled. ‘People of our age think that’s impossibly early for a Saturday night.’
‘She’s waiting up for me.’ The lights were on in the sitting room. ‘Come in with me,’ Chloe said.
He was hesitating. ‘Last week, she wasn’t pleased to see me.’ ‘She needs to get to know you better.’
She led him into the sitting room, and Adam was as charming as ever to her mother. ‘How are you, Mrs Redwood? Well, I hope?’
Chloe went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Her mother, who was not at ease with Adam these days, came to take over from her.
‘It’s a very late hour to bring visitors in,’ she said.
‘You need to get to know each other,’ Chloe told her. But that seemed to make Helen more uneasy, because it implied Adam was going to be a permanent fixture in her life.
‘Can you ask him for lunch tomorrow?’ Chloe whispered, so Adam wouldn’t overhear and know she’d prompted the invitation. Helen’s face told her she didn’t want him here again.
‘It’s the only way, Mum. You’ll like him once you get to know him.’
‘I’ve already invited Rex, and there’ll be Gran and Marigold too.’
‘A good thing if everybody gets to know him,’ Chloe told her.
Her mother rushed to the fridge. ‘I’m not sure the joint will be big enough.’
Chloe almost smiled. ‘Mum, that’s an enormous leg of lamb. It would feed ten people.’
She got what she wanted, Adam was invited for twelve thirty. That meant they could go out in his car afterwards and have the rest of the day to themselves.
On Sunday, Gran was already dozing in her chair, while Rex was sipping sherry and trying to talk to Marigold about the new Labour government and Harold Wilson’s financial policy. He hoped to steer her away from giving another interminable account of the infirmities she and her mother were suffering. Helen was in the kitchen making gravy, and Chloe was pacing restlessly between the window and her chair.
When Rex heard the front doorbell ring, it came as quite a shock to see Chloe rush to answer it and then bring Adam in to introduce him. Helen hadn’t told him Adam was invited too. He’d brought a magnificent bouquet of flowers for her and an expensive box of chocolat
es for Chloe. Rex felt socially lacking; he hadn’t thought to bring gifts. He made a mental note to bring a bottle of wine next time he was invited. It seemed Marigold and her mother had not met Adam before, and he got a frosty reception from them.
‘A boyfriend?’ Gran came to life and adjusted her spectacles to peer at him. ‘How long has this been going on?’
Marigold looked shocked. ‘You’re very young to have a boyfriend.’
Especially one like Adam, Rex thought. He looked sophisticated, almost a man about town in his navy blazer with gilt buttons, silver and navy silk tie and silver-grey slacks.
When he told them he’d driven from Manchester, they were shocked again that he had a car of his own and that he was prepared to come so far to see Chloe. They were bouncing questions at him. How old was he? Twenty-four? What sort of work did he do? How did he meet Chloe?
Rex tried to break the questioning up and help everybody feel more at ease, but before long he realised Chloe was doing a better job at that. It made him disheartened to see how preoccupied they were with each other. Their relationship had developed apace and it had put Chloe out of his reach. He felt she was lost to him. But would it last?
Helen moved them all to the dining room and asked Rex to carve the leg of lamb. It was presented on an enormous platter surrounded with roast potatoes and thyme and parsley stuffing. It had a great bone sticking up, which made it look a more complicated job than last week’s beef had been.
Rex hesitated as he approached the table. Chloe noticed and said brightly, ‘Adam’s good at carving. Would you rather he did it?’
Rex capitulated and said yes. Adam took his place and with great confidence gave a theatrical display of clashing the carving knife against the steel to sharpen it. He then proceeded to carve the joint with professional ease and arrange the servings neatly on the plates. It made Rex feel thoroughly inadequate.